Close Calls
by MoonlightGypsy
Summary: M TWOshot HC Gibbs looks after Tony after a close call undercover.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **This is a "One Shot- but I may do one more page (a Two-Shot? lol) Please forgive and feel free to correct- my 'person' as i want it to be from one perspective instead of my usual narration, and I rushed on top of that...

Next week will begin the longer story "Smile of the Moon". It was a tie with House of Cards. And now, to the story!

* * *

><p>I dunno' how it happened.<p>

One minute, we had it all under control, and the next, things went to Hell in a handbasket.

It was a simple enough mission, though the target was a dangerous animal.

(flashback)

_"You sure you can handle this, DiNozzo?" Vance said, toothpick playing along his teeth. His hands were folded in front of him on the table. He always had that almost monk-like posture, though maybe mixed with the alert study of a viper._

_As I expected, Tony looked up, raising his brows, in that 'Whatre'ya kidding?' expression._

_"Mr. Director, I am a true professional'" he smiled his most charming, and followed it with, "Vice cop, remember? I've been in these, eh, situations before."_

_"Lots of em', DiNozzo?" I teased._

_Tony flushed just a little, and was glaring at me, trying to come up with a funny come back._

_"Agent DiNozzo, Alonso Garcia has to be stopped, and I'm glad to hear you're prepared to see the mission through," Vance said, in a satisfied tone._

_"Uh…just as long as, you know, you don't expect me to go all the way," Tony said, chuckling. But underneath the humor, he really wasn't kidding. I know every shift of inflection, every body movement, after working together for so many years._

_"Don't mistake me for Jenny Shepperd, DiNozzo." I watched Tony's eyes and saw the brief flash of pain, remembering LaGrenouille and his daughter. Vance continued, "Sleeping with the target is not something I encourage. There are lines I do not expect you to cross when I send you out on an op." Vance sat back a little, with an even more serious look in his eyes. "This sonofabitch has been indirectly and directly responsible for the deaths of civilians and Marines. He's the worst kind of drug lord, he doesn't exactly care about quality so, a few of the deaths were due to the drugs being compounded incorrectly."_

_"Like PO Banks," Tony breathed out a little more somberly._

_"Ducky's almost done with him," I said to them both, "and it's looking very much like he took a concentrated form of Ecstasy, without really knowing what he was getting into, and when he collapsed in the club his friends thought he was drunk."_

_"Way to kill a party," Tony murmured._

_"Maybe if they'd gotten him help right away he'd still be alive," Vance said, disgustedly. He sighed, and then looked back at the folder Tony still had open in front of him. "You'll be wired, and we'll have people in several locations outside the club."_

_"Well," Tony said softly, "better safe than sorry." He flipped through a few more pages of the bastard's history._

_"This guy is dangerous, DiNozzo," I said in gentle warning, remembering the data I'd perused in the folder myself before calling him into the Director's office. "His love interests don't usually meet pleasant ends."_

_Something passed over his expression, but he wasn't looking directly at me, so I couldn't read it._

_Tony exhaled and sat back, looking from Vance and back to me._

_"I'm sure I've met him before, many times over, between my VICE days and working here at NCIS. He's nothing new. Just another greedy dirtbag." Tony closed the folder. "I'm more than happy to help put him away."_

_"Even if it means seducing him?" I asked plainly, not teasing anymore._

_Vance watched us both._

_I could see DiNozzo was getting pissed off at me, asking this again though he'd already told us he could handle it._

_"I got this, Boss. It's not like I've never done it before," he said through subtly clenched teeth._

_I raised my hands up and shrugged. "Okay."_

(end flashback)

And that's what got the whole damned thing started. Tony going undercover in a club, because he fit the bill for what this bastard liked to _bang_.

I know I couldn't do it. Dress up like some kind of tart and saunter into a gay bar, flaunting myself to get the attention of a killer.

I would break the sonofabitch's arm if it were me.

But it wasn't me. It was DiNozzo. And there was no one I could think of who had the talent and the balls to pull it off. I don't tell him nearly enough, but he knows. He's one of the best I've ever worked with.

Garcia had a few local haunts he frequented, and always gravitated towards the same kind of men. He usually went alone, leaving a man or two somewhere in a car outside, not wanting for his men to "cock-block" him.

And that's how he met the last two unfortunates, Alexander Kelman and Jerry Bishop. They were the latest relationships that lasted a few days to a couple of weeks tops, and likely, they'd heard too much. And so they were found floating in the river, strangled, naked, no prints, no DNA. Nothing but their sad, bloated remains. When alive, they'd looked a lot like Tony...

This guy was an all around nightmare.

And as usual, DiNozzo was raring to go, to take him down.

We parked outside The Coliseum, one of the hottest gay nightclubs in the area. There were lines out the door to get in, and bouncers the size of Texas waiting to get a chance to pound someone into the ground.

We had one surveillance van, containing McGee and Ziva for backup, me in the truck at the ready, and another car with two agents we borrowed for the mission.

Garcia had gotten there about twenty minutes ago, but we weren't sure where his men were parked. We at least knew the car and plates. White Mercedes CLS class four door coupe. Typical.

Tony walked up to the club, and I swear to God I laughed out loud just for a minute. He had done something to his hair…I dunno'… made it spikier or something. He had to have jumped out a window and landed in the jeans to get them on, because they were so tight. And the tee shirt wasn't that much different either. It had some kind of artwork on it that looked like…(I had to squint a little)…a Ouija board. I smiled at the words 'Yes, No, Maybe' listed at top, center, and bottom.

I nodded to myself in approval. He'd get plenty of attention in that get up. And there was a good chance if he got Garcia's attention, the man would take the bait.

Tonight was just about Tony getting his interest. Getting his number. Or Garcia Getting his.

"You ready DiNozzo, or should I say, DiNapoli?" I asked through the com.

"I was born ready, Boss," He smiled, not looking at me, but taking in the line at the door.

I watched as he ghosted his way around the line, almost imperceptibly handing the bouncer a fifty dollar bill. And the hulking bald man with tattoos smiled most agreeably at DiNozzo, stepping back to let him pass.

"Money is the universal lubricant," I heard him murmur into the com.

I could hear him walking into the club, the music was loud and the bass pumping furiously.

"McGee, everything's good?" I asked, double checking.

"We're good, Boss."

"Simmons, Archembault?" I asked for the other agents.

"Affirmative," I heard Simmons reply. "We're good."

"DiNozzo, devices are all go and hidden?"

"Yes, Boss," came the reply.

"Don't roll your eyes, DiNozzo."

"How did you- never mind," he said almost in surrender.

"Visuals, McGee?" I asked, knowing for the time being we needed to depend on the devices we had installed inside the club the day before.

"All clear Boss, we have the bar, dance floor, back room, and hallway by the ah…mens rooms."

I smiled to myself. McGee was noticing there were only mens rooms. Because there were only men.

It took about an hour. And about fifteen other guys hitting on DiNozzo, before McGee said, "Boss, this is it."

I listened while my eyes unfocused as all my attention went to what I was hearing.

"Hey." The man's deep voice came across clearly as he must have been vry close to Tony.

"Hey," DiNozzo's reply was welcoming.

"You here alone?"

"Not anymore," DiNozzo said, and I almost choked over the com. I guess I should have expected the flirty response. It worked on women, after all.

"What's your name?"

"Tony."

"Alonso. But you can call me Al."

There was a pause.

"McGee," I said, asking for a report on the visual.

"They're just at the bar, Boss."

After a few minutes of small talk, they both ordered drinks.

"It is going well, Gibbs, yes?" it was Ziva's voice, for the first time on the com tonight.

"Very," I said, but something was bothering me.

"So," DiNozzo asked casually, as one would in this kind of scenario, "what do you do, Alonso?"

"You shoppin' for a husband?" the man asked, in an amused tone.

"Uh…I-" DiNozzo faltered.

"Cos' I'm in the market more for a toy," the man crooned softly in DiNozzo's ear.

I cringed.

Amazingly, DiNozzo came back smooth as milk.

"Quite a coincidence that, cos' I like to play," he said, almost in what I'd describe as a purr.

The man chuckled. "I like you. Maybe we should take this discussion to the back room," and then added in a low rumble, "so we can get to know eachother better."

I wondered how Tony was gonna' handle that one, when I heard some static over the com, a little skidding kind of sound.

"McGee?"

"Uhhh…they're…k-kissing, Boss." I could almost hear the Probie's ears turning red from here.

I smiled but said nothing.

A wet sound, maybe of lips parting came over the com.

"As much as I'd like that," Tony said in a sexy voice, "I'm not that easy. I'm fast," I could hear the smile, "but not that fast."

"Okay," the man breathed, "maybe this isn't the place for it. Why don't' we move this somewhere else?"

This guy doesn't waste any time. Or he's really taken with DiNozzo. Either one of the thoughts are disturbing to me. For so many reasons.

Tony began to answer, "Well I-"

"Coño,"the man hissed.

Everyone was silent for a moment, hearing just the music and background of the bar over the com.

"What is it?" DiNozzo asked.

"Ah, my ex just showed up. Come with me," Garcia commanded him.

"But-"

"Now!"

"McGee? Ziva?"

"Two men just enterd the club, Boss, heading for Garcia. Abby's running them now."

"DiNozzo, stick with him, but be ready to abort," I growled, feeling more of a twist in my gut.

Tony coughed, to acknowledge that he heard me.

"Report McGee."

"Garcia's dragging Tony towards the back hallway with the mens rooms," McGee responded.

Ziva chimed in, "Abby says she could identify only one man so far, Hector Arroyo, part of the Perro Rojo gang that competes for drug trafficking in the area."

"Great," I said. I could hear movement and more shuffling from DiNozzo over the com. "DiNozzo abort. Get out. Now."

"I think maybe we should pick this up another time," DiNozzo said, a little out of breath.

"Too late, mi amor, they've seen us, and you won't be safe to stay here," he said quickly.

"They?" DiNozzo acted surprised. "You- OW!"

My heart jumped.

"McGee!" I grunted out.

"I dunno' Boss, they just turned the corner by the back door."

"What did you inject me with?" Tony asked angrily, as Gibbs heard a door open and close, and a whistle.

Garcia didn't answer him.

I started the car, feeling genuinely alarmed. "Simmons, get to the back!"

"Copy," Simmons said, and I could hear tires screeching as the other agents raced to get to DiNozzo.

"Heads-up on the two men after them, likely armed," I said.

Over the com, I can hear a car door open, and more dragging static as DiNozzo is saying, a little sluggishly. "I'm not going to go -

"Get in!" Garcia yelled.

And then the door closed.

"We have a visual," Simmons said, following up Tenth Avenue."

"Stay on em'. And tell me if they turn. DiNozzo, we've got your six," I said loudly into the com. I knew if I went around to Eighth, I could speed up and come around to cut them off. Tenth was a long run up to the Beltway, likely where they were headed.

I can hear something of a moan through the com. And the conversation going on in the car.

"Those fuckin' perros were in the club," Garcia says angrily.

Another man's voice chimes from the front seat, "What were they doing here? Trying to get to you? Or did they know about the shipment?"

"Watch it, Manny, remember I have a guest here."

"Lo siento, jefe."

"Just get us to the office."

"Si', claro."

I speed up, knowing I have to cut them off before they get to the entrance of the highway.

"Simmons!" I yell.

"We're still behind them between Clark and Sutton," he quips.

I can hear Garcia, closer in to DiNozzo, "Tonight is not your lucky night, I guess."

It's something of a half groan, half gasp I hear from my SFA.

"But ... it's my lucky night. You and I are gonna' have such a good time…I just gave you a little something to help you relax. I'm always prepared. Like a boyscout."

I want to be sick now, as I grip the steering wheel like I might break it off, because I can hear the sounds of the com stuttering again, and I know he's got his hands on Tony.

"I'm about to cross over Bitton Avenue," I warn them, "I'm gonna' cut him off. Make sure they can't go anywhere."

"Copy," Simmons confirms.

The whisper I hear next fills me with rage.

"Later, I'm gonna' take your clothes off, and put my big cock in that pretty ass of yours. I might even wait til' you're awake."

I swerve around several cars, my wheels skidding across the street, as people honk at me angrily.

As I near Tenth, I slow a bit, seeing the Mercedes approaching.

I head them off, causing them to swerve and break while the car does a half spin, coming to a stop close to my truck, as Simmons pulls up right along side.

I can hear the LEO's in the background, sirens wailing. I knew without having to ask that Ziva had called it in, and put a BOLO out on the car immediately.

Jumping out of the car with our guns raised, it takes all of ten seconds for the men in the car to come out and surrender themselves, as the lights from the patrol cars round the corner and bounce off the white Mercedes.

I'm only vaguely aware now, of the men being arrested and cuffed as I dive for the back seat of the car on the side close to me, where Tony is sitting, motionless.

"DiNozzo!" I call, as I tear open the door.

His head is back on the seat, eyes closed, and lips parted, as if he'd just fallen asleep like that.

As if he hadn't been drugged, and if we didn't catch up to them…

I shudder at the thought, not wanting to follow it.

I lean over him, tapping his cheek, "Tony!"

"An ambulance is coming," I hear Simmons call to me.

He's struggling to open his eyes, as his head jerks ever so slightly.

I only get to see slits with little bits of dazed green behind them.

"Bossss," he slurs. "Sssleepyyy…"

"You're gonna' be okay Tony, we've got you," I say to him, reassuring him, because I can't possibly know what he's aware of or not at this point.

Anger flashes inside my veins as I think about what Garcia said to him.

"Tony…that bastard is goin' down for this. Kidnapping a Federal Agent at the least. He's gotta pay. Just the thought of what he was going to do to you…" I was sickened, and angry, and still worried about the man in front of me.

"Sssokay, Boss," he murmurs, as his eyes are closing again. It's the next words with give me a start, make me suddenly confused and scared shitless.

"Wouldn't be the firsstime…"

* * *

><p>Everyone's relieved that DiNozzo's okay.<p>

I pace a while. I wait. I drink coffee. And I growl.

Until I know he is okay, that it was a Rohypnol type drug Garcia shot into my agent, my friend, and they tell me he won't suffer any effects other than being tired tomorrow.

Just in case, they're going to keep him over night.

I'm relieved.

But now something else occupies my thoughts.

Those last few words, 'Wouldn't be the first time'.

I shake my head, hoping he didn't mean what I think. And I know if he did, it was a slip, from the drugs in his system.

How could I find out without asking him dead on? And should I ask him? Did I have a right to?

We depend on each other, at work, and now, outside work too. Tony is mine. My family. Same as my girls. Though they might be pissed if I called them that. And McGee too.

But Tony…is like me in a lot of ways. And we have a special bond. Hell, he's even like the son I never had…

I swallow down the emotion I feel, usually only allowed to come out in the privacy of my basement, in the company of my woodworks and my bourbon.

They tell me I can go in and see him now.

He's a little pale, in the hospital bed. But otherwise peaceful looking.

Without all the animation and his usual antics, he looks almost…innocent. Like someone that needs to be protected.

I don't coddle DiNozzo usually, nor make too much fuss over him. I know it means more to him that way when I do give him the praise, or direct more attention to him. We have an understanding. But when he really needs to talk, and the bourbon and late hour help him drop a few layers, I listen.

Now I have to think. Think hard, gunney.

Those words…

DiNozzo has had so many close calls working with me, I've lost count.

When was it that it was more than a close call? Did I fail to protect him somewhere down the line? Or was this from his days being a cop? Or even older?

Part of me doesn't want to know. Let it stay buried.

But then part of me, the part that is the protector, wants…no, needs to know what happened, and if there's someone I can make pay. Someone I can punish for hurting him.

"We're gonna' need to talk tomorrow, I think," I say gently, knowing he probably can't hear me. "I know that isn't easy…for either one of us."

He moves a little in the hospital bed, letting out a soft whimper.

"Everything's okay now, Tony," I say as I put my hand on his arm, squeezing it just once, "I got your six."


	2. Chapter 2

Ziva and McGee were reluctant to go home. They were worried about him too, and they heard the same things I did earlier when he was in the back of the Mercedes with that dirtbag, Garcia.

Abby and Ducky and Palmer all showed too.

But Tony was down for the count. There was nothin' to see.

Nonetheless, none of them would budge until they got a chance to look at his sleeping form in the hospital bed, until they spoke a few words to him. He barely acknowledged them, still being held under by the aftereffects of the drugs. The most he did was try for a moment to open his eyes, and grace them with distant sounding murmurs.

He would have been helpless to stop what that animal planned to do to him. Every time I think of it, it makes me wanna' put my fist through a wall.

Finally they all left, satisfied enough that he would live, and they would get to see him in the next day or two.

So it's just me now.

Sitting in the chair next to his bed. Watching the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes.

I'm completely aware of the fact we could have lost him tonight.

And I have to wonder if he was aware of it, with the drugging.

Did he hear the sick, evil words that were whispered to him?

Will he remember the man's hands on him?

I hope not. I shake my head.

I keep thinking about the fact that we've been lucky for a while now. After losing Pacci, and Kate. I almost worry we're due for another tragedy and it's just a matter of time.

Usually, I keep those thoughts at bay. We have a job to do. A dangerous job. And it's important.

But tonight…as I look at his face, I'm reminded of how human we all are...how fragile life is, no matter what we tell ourselves.

My mind is turning, spinning a little, thinking about the op, and Vance chewing my ass out over the phone when we came in to the hospital, and those words, still echoing in my head, "…Wouldn't be the first time."

Somewhere in the midst of it and in the dark of the hospital room, I sack out.

* * *

><p>I jolt awake.<p>

I'm not sure why.

And now I realize I'm hearing someone gasp.

He's trying to sit up in the bed, and I can see he's going to try and rip out the I.V. they set up to help flush his system.

"Leave it!" I command, and he looks at me, green eyes wide and startled like he just realized I was here.

He probably had no idea.

"Boss?" he asks, looking at me, confused.

I'm next to the bed now, and I gently push him back to lie down.

"Easy. Everything's okay."

He must still be a little zoned from the rohypnol.

"I…" his eyes are moving around, as he struggles to remember what happened. And he startles me, "The op! What…"

"You remember what happened, DiNozzo?" I ask calmly, because I can see the threads of stress starting to line up in his face.

He looks at me for a long moment and then frowns, looking away. "Yeah. I remember Boss."His tone is sour.

I know him like the back of my hand.

"Not your fault. We had a few unforseens come up tonight. And you didn't get the chance to bail when I told you."

"Because Garcia stuck me with that needle while I turned my head to see where the gang bangers were."

"Yeah."

He looks at his hands for a moment, before scrubbing them over his face.

"And …you …I know you were there, Boss. It's just…a little disjointed," he licks his lips nervously, and looks at me with intensity.

"I cut them off, before they could get to the Beltway with you."

He nods slowly.

I sit on the edge of the bed now, looking at him. He's waiting for me to ask.

"You remember what happened in the car? What Garcia said to you?"

He looks away and I can see his adam's apple bob as he swallows hard.

He nods. He pulls in a shaky breath and says, "Yeah, Boss," very softly, "I remember."

I can see something pass through him, that might be memory. And shame.

I'm about to try and reassure him , but he surprises me.

"Thanks, Boss," he looks at me now and smiles a little, "You saved my ass." He chuckles. "Literally."

I smile back at that, but now it's my turn to look away, as I try to figure out if I should ask now about what he said before he passed out in the car. It was likely he remembered that too, but was this the time to ask?

Yes. Now is the time. He's still tired, a little strung out, and more likely to let me in.

I feel a little guilty, like the bastard we all know I am, because I know him so well that I know when to capitalize on his weak moment.

He's been watching me process in front of him. And he's tensing up.

"You…said something to me," I begin gently, "right before the drugs knocked you out totally. You recall that?"

His eyes drop immediately, and I swear I can see his mouth drop just a little, as his breathing subtly picks up.

My heart sinks at the confirmation of his response. And then it just about breaks when he tries to deny it.

"No," he shakes his head, and gives me a half-hearted shrug. "I guess I was really out of it…"

He looks at me again, and tries a weak smile.

But I feel it, tension coming off him in waves.

I open my mouth to push him, but before I can speak, there's a nurse next to me.

"Sir," she says in an annoyed tone, "Agent DiNozzo needs to rest. The Doctor is going to discharge him this morning as long as he gets some sleep and all the fluids done. If you can't let him do that I suggest you go home." She walks around to his IV, checking at and taking account of his general demeanor.

"Ah, maybe she's right, Boss. You've gotta' be tired…It was really great of you to stay. But maybe you should go home," he tried to sound normal, but, there's a hint of desperation in his voice. I can hear it. Hell, I can almost smell it. Interrogated too many people to not see the little signs of subterfuge…

"If you don't mind, and Nurse Rachett approves (she scowls at me while fluffing his pillows), I think I'll rack in the chair a few more hours, and take you home when they spring you."

I can see the wheels turning in his head. He wants me to go. Leave it alone. But he should know me better than that.

He can't figure out how to make me go without looking suspicious. So he shrugs and says, "Suit yourself, Boss." And he stares at the ceiling, as the nurse leaves the room, after giving me a warning glance.

He sighs and closes his eyes.

"Vance pissed off?" He asks without moving.

I lean back in the marginally comfortable chair.

"Yeah. But at least we've got him on kidnapping and drugging you with the intent of rape."

I see his hand twitch a little when the word 'rape' registers.

He sighs heavily. "Not the same as murder."

"No."

"I'm-"

"Don't say it," I growl in warning. "It is not-your-fault," I say pointedly. "You know that these things get blown sometimes by the pop circumstances. No one knew the dogs were gonna' be there tonight. And you had no idea what Garcia was…" I trailed off, because by the looks of it, he'd fallen asleep again.

"Aw, Hell," I mutter, rubbing my eyes. "Two tears in a bucket…" I say, and get comfortable to catch an hour or two more of sleep.

* * *

><p>He's sitting in the car now, next to me, dozing a little. They released him, but told him he needs to take it easy for the next day or so before jumping back into regular routines.<p>

About five minutes before we arrive, he realizes, "Boss, we're by you."

"Uh-huh."

Realization comes across his face. And maybe even a little something like apprehension.

"I don't- I – I'm fine, Boss. Gibbs. Really," he's looking at me, and the intensity of it makes me feel like I am a hundred percent on this.

"You're staying for today, and tonight. We're off rotation for three days. Vance approved it. But another Agent will come by your place tomorrow for a statement from you."

He looks suddenly despondent. But nods his head, and looks out the window again.

My guest room is not that plush, or cushy. There's no TV. No stereo. No 300 thread count sheets. That's for a reason.

I don't like most people. I don't like them visiting.

But Tony and the team, and my Dad, of course for them I'm glad I have the room, whenever someone needs it.

I find my best company is my bourbon and my sanding block.

Not surprisingly, I'm back in the basement now, nursing two fingers, and contemplating what stain I'm going to use for the new kitchen table I made myself.

DiNozzo's been asleep a few hours. I told him to come get me when he woke up, so I'd know when to round up some chow.

I'm sanding with the finest knapp now, almost ready to wipe the table down with sackcloth.

The light through the basement windows still doesn't give me enough to really work by, so I still have a few of the overheads on.

As I sand, I'm thinking back, trying to guess at when or if I'd left Tony without backup. And how he could have just neglected to tell me something so important. Once again, I'm telling myself it may have been in Philly, or Peoria, or a college party, for all I know.

But my gut's twisting, telling me somewhere along the line, he got hurt. And maybe I fucked up. And he paid for it.

My cell rings.

"Gibbs," I say into it.

"Is he alright?"

"Ziva. He's fine," I say, not fully convinced of it at all, but no need to worry her about it.

She sighs into the phone. "That…man, Garcia, sad terrible things to him. And…I just…"

"I know."

"You are certain Tony is alright?"

"I've got him right here, Ziva, sleeping in the guest room."

"Okay."

"Ziva," I say with a small pause.

"Yes, Gibbs?"

"Tell Abby, he's fine."

"How did you know I was-"

"And then call the others. I am not in the mood for more company. One agent in my spare room is enough. Got it?'

"Yes Gibbs."

She hangs up, knowing I was done with the conversation.

Just now I hear a creak at the top landing.

"You woke up."

As he slowly walks down the stairs in the sweats and tee shirt I loaned him, I notice a little bit of hair sticking up in a crazy direction in the right side of his head.

"Yeah," he smiles, and yawns, strolling over to the bench in the corner behind me. "Nice table."

"It will be," I say as I slowly return to sanding. Best not to face him head on when I attempt this conversation again.

Animals and children respond better when they think you're not looking at them directly. Same for adults and painful secrets. I'd know too. Had a few of my own right?

"It was…really nice of you, to bring me home here," he says, and there's such sincerity in his tone, I almost stop to look at him. But I keep going with the circles I'm making on the wood.

"Why wouldn't I?" I say plainly.

"Well," he says, "Not many people have bosses that would do things like that for them."

I nod as I work, "Or friends."

There's a pause.

He's surprised because I don't usually say it to him. Admit it out loud.

"Friends," he says, like an open ended statement.

"Uh-huh," I say, pausing to sip a little bourbon. I put the glass back down. "Friends."

He says nothing for a while, watching me work.

"Boss." I know that tone. Apologetic.

"I told you," I huff out as I work. "It wasn't your fault."

"The op?" he says, seemingly thrown for a moment.

I stand up and look at him, probably glaring. My brow is raised, impatiently. "Uh-huh."

His brow furrows, and he looks away. "No…" he fidgets and then stands up. He looks suddenly lost. "No…I.." he's looking at me again. I see the flash of fear.

He wants to tell me.

"Nothing," he shakes his head. "Ah…you need any help on the table? Looks like it's almost done." His gaze falls hopefully on the piece that I've now leaned my ass on.

"Don't."

He looks alarmed.

"Don't what, Boss?"

I push away from the edge of the table and take a few steps over to him, looking him in the eye.

"We both know what you said yesterday, and," I pause, to gentle my tone for him, and look around just for a moment to try and gather words I don't usually have, "I want you to tell me the truth, to trust me enough to know that I won't ever judge you. And I will always listen. Friends don't just talk about pleasant things."

"Well," he says, scratching his head, I…I know that…I just…" he starts to walk away from me, but not to leave the room, just to pace. "Some things…are hard…to talk about. And why drag something out when it doesn't matter anymore? You know? I mean…some things…should be left in the past…" he trails off, and I get the feeling he's talking almost to himself right now instead of me.

"Because," I say slowly, "you said it, and it means something to me. You're important…to me."

He slows and comes to a stop, looking at me with a seriousness few people ever get the pleasure of.

Suddenly he looks very upset. As if I'd just said the wrong thing…but I know it was because I'd said the right thing. It sank in.

His expression is changing before my eyes, from the controlled and guarded defenses to painfully crumbling walls.

His lips part, as if he's willing himself to say the words, and he lifts his hands a little. He's looking around a little, almost as if trying to formulate the sentence, desperate for it to come out.

I'm questioning my tactics now, because I can see his eyes are dark with emotion, and they're starting to tear up.

His eyebrows raise up for a moment as he blinks a few times and forces out, "Jeffrey White, and Laine Danielson," and the names almost catch in his throat as his breath hitches uttering them.

I stare at him for a moment as my brain does a complete tilt.

I blink a few times myself, realizing I have to say something now, because he's looking at me, barely able to catch his breath.

A horrible cold is passing through me, followed by such a deep sickness, I have no words to describe it to you.

I walk the several feet to him quickly, and grab him to me, and whisper "Jesus, Tony, I'm so sorry."

He's shaking against me, so hard I wonder if he's gonna' pass out. I increase the strength of the grip I have on him.

My insides feel like someone just shoved a crowbar straight up into me, and I almost break down myself when I feel the hot tears hitting my shoulder.

"I…I didn't…couldn't tell you," he choked out, "I just couldn't…and they were both dead by the end anyway…"

I pass my hand to the back of his head, rubbing it to comfort us both.

"You should have told me, Tony. I would have been there for you, son," I say to him fiercely.

I feel absolute grief at what he must have gone through, and for the fact he kept it in so long.

I wish those two fuckers were alive, so I could kill them.

I'm rubbing his back now, and the shaking is getting better. He seems to be calming down, whereas I'm only getting started.

"Those fucking bastards," I murmur. I take a shaky breath and stand back for a moment to look at him.

He's pale as paper now. And his face is wet. He's not looking at me. I see it. Shame in his eyes.

"Hey."

He looks at me.

"None of that with me. Ever. You did nothing wrong. And you pulled off the mission, under horrific circumstances, and ," my voice breaks here, "I'm even more proud of you because it must have taken everything you had to do that."

He was struggling to control himself. He couldn't speak yet, but nodded.

"I should have…" I'm gripping his shoulders, probably too hard, "God! You should have had better back up. I should have made sure…"

"No," he croaked out, "You can't do this now. This is part of why I didn't tell you…"

I stare into his eyes. He's so vulnerable right now…there's no mask to hide behind, no guile or tricks…

"You knew how I'd react…" I say, almost dazedly.

He licks his dry lips, "Yes."

"Huh." He wasn't just protecting himself. He was protecting me. I'll be damned. He was protecting me.

I'm overwhelmed. I'm feeling so horrified, and so proud of him, and humbled and shamed and worried…

I take a deep breath.

He's much calmer. I decide I don't need to drag out the details. Now that we opened the door and looked at the boogeyman inside the dark closet, he can come to me and tell me if he needs to. I think he knows that now.

We're both wrung out.

Sighing, I finally let my arms drop, looking at him.

"No more," I say, as if by decree.

His glassy eyes show his confusion. "No more what, Boss?"

"No more close calls."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N :** Hi readers !

Going from someone who didn't write, to putting out stories to you guys last Spetember, I feel like I've learned so much and really appreciate the support i got from you, the readers. I hope to continue to improve and offer interesting an entertaining material!

If you have the desire, and can afford to, Pandora's Box, The Net, Close Calls and Smile of the Moon are all up for awards at the Author's Note Convention for fanfiction. I am actually going to be there, at Roanoke VA, for the event. For $5 donation (for charity) you can vote for any of these stories at authorsnote dot org after June 1st. Look for a line on the right that says DONATE A VOTE, on the convention page.

Five bucks is lunch- so – truly – I already appreciate the reviews greatly and this is only if you want to and can do.

Thank you so much!

MG


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